


Unfinished

by Czeriah



Series: Zelink Month 2018 [5]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Gen, Happy Ending, set during the calamity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 18:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15588126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Czeriah/pseuds/Czeriah
Summary: Written for the 5th entry of Zelink month 2018 - Unfinished.





	Unfinished

**Author's Note:**

> Unfinished, the state that this fic almost ended up in… Honestly, I struggled to find a good story to tell with this one. I think I’m quite happy with what I wrote at the end.
> 
> I’m not sure I’ll be able to write the next couple of prompt. My aunt is in the hospital, palliative care, so I’m not sure I’ll have the will to write much. Add to that that I’m moving appartement this week…I’ll do my best but I can’t promise anything.
> 
> (I’m saying that like somebody care but, sorry for rambling.) 
> 
> Anyway, here is the fic, enjoy and let me know what you think of it ? as always, sorry for any mistakes I might have missed.

There was this book, she had started to read. what was it about...herbs? Or maybe elixirs.  
She could remember putting it down on her desk, slipping a paper with a note between the pages to find back where she was. Her father had called her, and it has seemed urgent at that point.  
She had never finished it.

She could also remember her needlework, that she had been doing with her maid as a way to change her mind from time to time.  
It has been her who had done all the champions clothes, her mother had started to teach her and some of the elderly maid had continued after she had passed away.  
She could picture it in her mind, lying on the bench at the foot of her bed, waiting patiently to be finished. It had been a scarf, a blue one, like his eyes.

There was another book, a funnier one. Urbosa had given it to her, a love story. She had thought it might help her understand her knight better. Her voe she had said.  
He wasn't her voe. Not at this point anyway. He has never been hers. He wasn’t anything anymore. Not for a hundred year.  
She had never finished the book. He had been forgotten in her bag, somewhere between Mount Lanaryu and Fort Hateno, his pages disseminate with the wind.  
A little like her own love story.

Unfinished, scattered to the wind.

She thought about the painting, she had requested it to be paint from the picture they had taken together a few days before their departure.  
She remembers it clearly, half drawn, just a sketch, raw and simple, a little bit like them.  
She had never seen the final result, it would probably lie in the easel for a while, the buyer not around anymore to pay for it. Forgotten.   


She remembers a letter, some words she had dropped around to try and tell him everything. How sorry she was, how desperate for recognition. How she had seen it in his eyes and had feared it.  
She remembers letting it on her desk, as unfinished and forgotten as the painting. As she would also be soon.

She remembered Mipha’s last sentence. Still wondering now what would have happened if she had said these last few words.

_“It helps, when I think about…”_ about what Mipha? The one you love? Your family? How nobody thinks you are a failure?

She remembers his face, at the last moment. How his eyes had widened with fear when she had protected him. She remembered his cry, only cut by her own. She could still feel his weight in her arms while she cried, the hot tears burning her eyes, her skin, their task unfinished.

She was alone, and she didn’t know how to fix all of this, until she did.

She remembers the kiss, or the want she had felt to just drop her lips until they meet his own, like in this story her mother used to tell her when she was a child. Or at least, what she could recall, she used to fall asleep just after the kiss, never knowing if the characters would have a happy ending. Another story unfinished to add to the long list she already had.  
She never kissed him, not by the lack of wanting to. Maybe if she had, he would have woken up.

Maybe he wouldn’t have.  
But now, now she could do nothing but wait. Wait for someone to finish the battle she could only contain within herself.   


She was never good to finish anything.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t remember anything.

Sometimes, it felt like the lack of memory was a blessing, until it wasn’t.  
He could hear her voice, this girl, the princess. She was important. He couldn't figure out why, but she was.  
Zelda. Her name on his lips, how the Z started it off, sharp, and then rolling on his tongue on the L. It sounded like an invitation, the start of something. He loved the shape of it, how it made his mouth curl around the sound of it.

He couldn’t remember anything, until he did. He had some unfinished business to deal with, or that was what the strange spirit of the king had said. She had been important, and now she was locked in the castle, taking care of the mission he had failed to accomplish.  
All he could do from now was going forward and finished what had started a hundred years ago.   


The first he found had been Mipha’s. So full of memory, of feeling. Hope was bursting at the seam of each page.  
It ended abruptly, like her life. His memories were hazy at best, he couldn’t remember more than a childhood glee at meeting the Zoras, the happiness at making a new friend. The shyness or their last conversation, the way he had understood her intention, but didn’t want to show her any more than friendly feelings.  
It wasn’t meant to be, he had loved her, like a brother.

he had never had the time to tell her that.

The second had been Daruk’s. The cheerfulness, the friendship, given without asking anything in return. It was almost too much.  
He had travelled across the wild, found the memories the princess had left for him, scattered to the wind.  
It was a relief as much as a burden. He loved her, a little bit more at each passing thought.   


From here, he could see the struggle he had miss all those years ago, the pain she bears. The futility of it all, the harshness of her father, the weight of all he was putting on her?

He remembers, so long ago, he had already wanted to help her, to take some of her burden away and bury it.

And then, he had found Rivali’s.  
The anger, the despite he had felt. The bird was awful, always dismissing everybody. 

_ "It's difficult for me to comprehend the troubles of the talentless, but... I'm trying. It's not that I dislike the princess. She tries her hardest. It's simply not good enough.” _

The words were too much for him to read. She hadn’t deserved any of this ire, not from her father, and certainly not from an egocentric bird who could launch himself slightly higher than the others.  
And at the same time, he recalled the ugly taste of hate, he remembers her words.

_ “I know Revali hate us, he hates that I’m not good enough and he hate you because you are too good. All I feel about him is sadness. The loneliness had made him bitter and cruel. But I’m sure I can reach him, make him see that it’s together that we will be at our best. Will you help me, Link?” _

He had said yes, and never had the chance to even try.

As for the fourth, he remembered her gentleness, despite her impressive appearance. He had liked her a lot, for the mother figure she had become for the princess, the advice she had gave him. Given time, she could have been someone he himself could have seen as a mother figure.  
And then she was gone.  
He remembers the hurt in Zelda’s face. Naboris had been the first to fall.

Her diary was stored, safely, in the slate. He had read the first page and left it unfinished. It was too much for him, and not something he felt he had the right to read.  
His gaze fell on the Castle, the purple mist, almost organic, turning around the towers. If he closed his eyes, he could feel her, somewhere in the centre.

He was ready.

It was time to put an end to this calamity.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading, let me know if you've liked it.   
> You can come say hi on my tumblrs (Czeriah/Czeriahshiptank) !


End file.
